


Ice Cream

by magic_frankie



Series: Suzette & Vaslav [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Drugs, Explicit Language, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Novelization, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, found family trope, gay disaster duo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:15:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28556715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magic_frankie/pseuds/magic_frankie
Summary: Revenge is a dish best served cold, revenge is sweet, this can only means revenge is an ice cream.The couriers Marie Suzette and Molko Vaslav went west a few years ago expecting easy money and a venturesome lifestyle, but after the duo had their juvenile fantasies interrupted by unpredictable events, not even the Mojave sun will stop their plans of vengeance.(Basically, a Fallout : New Vegas novelization)
Series: Suzette & Vaslav [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2092302
Kudos: 3





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy!! This is probably my first work in a while, finally decided to stop procrastinating and started writing again!! If you're reading this, please know I'm really glad you took interest in this little story of mine, and I hope you have a wonderful time reading!!  
> This prologue is mostly speech, but things will start getting interesting soon, I'm even making a cool playlist and everything!  
> By the way, I took some liberties while writing this, so there are a few minor canon-divergences, like vehicles, rest of the world history and how they're doing in the post-war world, culture, et cetera.

Not everyone has energy, money, time or reason to go out drinking on a Wednesday night, but some type of painkillers were hard to find on the wastelands. Suzette has been in the same position many times before, a few cups becoming a few bottles, and then suffering the consequences on the morning after. The dictionary says being alone and being lonely are two different things, and at this night, she was both. For some reason, loneliness and drunkenness always made her talkative towards strangers, and in that empty bar, she had no trouble spotting her next victim; a pale boy sitting alone a few tables next to hers, without much wait, Suzette made her approach:

\- Mind if I sit? – She chivalrously asked.  
\- Friend of Charlotte, fuck off.  
\- First things first, little brother, if you wanna use slang you gotta learn it, ain’t “Charlotte”, it’s “Dorothy”! You know yellow-brick-road-tornado-Kansas Dorothy? That’s her.  
\- Whatever, what really matters is that you got my message.  
\- Besides, sir, should I be offended?  
\- I’m sorry, what for exactly?  
\- I don’t take kindly those who think I’m into that kinda fruit.  
\- I see – He sipped on his cup – If that’s not your intention, then what’s so interesting about sitting with a totally strange man?  
\- Chill, buddy. Just trying to make friends, meet new people. Let’s have a chat, share each other’s frustrations and life stories, dig?  
\- I guess – The young man nodded – Still don’t fully understand what makes you think I’d be a good confidant, sugar.  
\- Dunno, I liked your hair.  
\- So, you choose your friends based on their hair?  
\- Yeah, why? Should I choose friends based on their personalities? – Suzette laughed sarcastically - Pfff just messing with ya. I dunno, I was alone, saw the only one who was in the same situation and thought to myself “Damn, me and this guy, we gonna be friends!”  
\- That’s fair.  
\- C’mon, lemme take a seat.  
\- It’s all yours.  
\- Your accent is different, you Russian?  
\- No, Polish. You don’t sound American either.  
\- Yup, French, small town near Nantes, what about you?  
\- Small town near Saint Petersburg, but we moved cities a lot when I was a kid.  
\- Wait, wait... Saint Petersburg? And Polish? Boy, you’ve missed some geography classes, haven’t you?  
\- Err... I know it sounds stupid, my parents were Polish, and since we never exactly settled in one place to call it home, I don’t really know what else to call myself, got it?  
\- So I guess I’m Haitian now, friend. I’ve grown up on the same situation, always on the run – Suzette said before sipping on her brew - still the way I like it by the way – She added – And you don’t see me all “Oh my god, I’m Haitian, I’m Haitian”  
\- I guess that makes sense. Can’t argue against the logic.  
\- See? I’m an angel sent to show you the truth: you’re Russian. Face it, fool!  


After a few hours of small talk and very few minutes of silence, both of them were alcoholised enough to act as if they knew each other for decades. For some reason that only booze could explain, Suzette felt bothered by the fact that her new friend looked so young and still chugged cheap alcohol as if it was clean water, she learned that he was actually 20 years old, besides not looking a day older than 15.

\- I mean, I’m 24, so I guess it would be kinda hypocrite of me to feel any disapproval for your behaviour. – She thought out loud - So, tell me, Vodka-boy, what brought you to America?  
\- That’s a long story, buddy. I was seventeen, living with my sister, some fool offered me a role in a dance company, told me I was going to UK, they still care about these things in some places, you know? My place actually did, but I was too stubborn, wanted my own experiences, dig?  
\- You dance? Damn, that’s so fucking cool. What do you do? Ballroom? Tap dance?  
\- Not that kinda dance. Classical dance, ballet.  
\- Oh, that would make sense, you look the classy type, all dapper and shit. Back in my town, there was a dancing school, but most people stuck to scavenging, cooking, building, sewing, et cetera,  
\- I see, not many people have enough balls to be an artist these days, I don’t blame em, hard to keep a job that got nothing to do with food, clothes and housing.  
\- You tell me, I’m not an artist but a historian, well, self-taught, but still. People always ask why did I chose this over tinkering or computing, since I’m good in both, they never understand the fact that I do what I do because I like it. – The boy nodded in agreement with her - But hey, keep telling me about what happened after you left your place.  
\- Alright, so, I’ve never travelled before and thought the enormous amount of time was just the regular distance of crossing the English Channel, turns out I was crossing the Atlantic Ocean. And also, important to mention that when I first got here, I didn’t speak a single word of English. All the vocabulary I’m using now? Got that in three years.  
\- Shit, I can’t even imagine how fucked up that must’ve been.  
\- Lost count of how many mental breakdowns I’ve had this far – He laughed to lighten the mood, but with a voice filled with regret - They sold me to a family. Wealthy European creeps who wanted European servants, said they didn’t trust Americans to take care of their home and food.  
\- And what was your work in there?  
\- A little bit of everything. At first, for some reason they thought I’d make a good repairman, handled me a plasma defender and expected me to mod it, and tell you what, that shit exploded in my hands, I even thought I’d lose em – The young man said mimicking an explosion - When they realized that I had plenty of physical resistance, boss decided I was made for chopping wood, and you know what? He gave the wrong bitch an axe, tried to check if he had a brain.  
\- Boy, you ain’t one to fuck around, I liked your style – Suzette laughed, proud of her new friend’s past acts – You did good, gave em hell, shoulda done worse.  
\- Things didn’t exactly happened the way I’ve planned, next thing I remember was waking up with a headache and a sore eye, but damn, fucking worth it!  
\- Where are these fools now? Gonna pop their heads, nobody messes with my friend Vodka-boy and gets to live another day!  
\- Chill, pal. They way up north, somewhere around Toronto, lots of trees, really tall trees, sometimes felt like I was living in an old world holotape, then a giant rat would appear to wake me up from my daydreams.  
\- Damn, Toronto? You’ve come a long way, brother! What brought you to Orleans?  
\- Making it quick because I don’t feel like detailing too much, met a guy who worked in the house, fell in love, boss’ son caught us doing what we shouldn’t, and damn, he didn’t take kindly the sight of me sucking dick, so I had to knock the fool out and the rest is history. – He said before lighting a cigarette - We knew boss would want our heads on a plate on morning after, so we hit the road, did some shit, mostly petty crimes, shot a few people, and now I’m here, alone as you can see.  
\- Mind if I take one?  
\- Nah, you’re welcome, god bless our lungs. Lemme light it for you.  
\- Thanks, and amen to that – The girl took a drag - Hope I’m not being too inconvenient, but what happened to your man?  
\- Well, live by the gun, die by the gun, and I’ve been here since.  
\- Damn, buddy, I’m so sorry for that. You still good? – Suzette expressed her concern  
\- Thanks for asking, but don’t worry, I can take it – He answered trying not to show his grief - Things haven’t been easy, but at least I do some nice work in here, can you believe this town’s full of tourists on holidays? Some folks even come here to learn French.  
\- Yeah, people talk French in here, that’s why I’m leaving soon.  
\- Why? Don’t want your neighbours reading your letters?  
\- Nah, my parents are Haitian, just like half of the people I’ve met in here – Now it was Suzette’s turn to get emotional - I miss them in a way I’ve never did before, every single corner feels like being alone at home.  
\- I told you ‘bout my troubles, now tell me about yours!  
\- Hm, lemme see where to begin... – She scratched her head – My parents are both Haitian, dad’s a professor, teaches English in a school, mom’s a computer engineer, both moved to France cause she got a job offer in a military base. Two years after, they had my older sister, and four years after her, they had me.  
\- You had much contact with the rest of your family?  
\- Nah, mostly letters and photographs, always wanted to meet em, actually did before coming to the U.S., but it was weird, you know? They made these warm welcomes, but still felt weird, I make friends fast, but I think maybe the fact that I’ve known these people for so long without actually meeting em made the experience a little bit odd.  
\- Maybe you’ve putted way too much expectations on em, and when y’all finally met, turns out they were just normal folks.  
\- Yeah, just like that!  
\- And also, you’ve asked me before and now I’m asking you, what brought you to the U.S.?  
\- To be honest, I have no idea. Originally, I was planning on spending some time in Port-Au-Prince, but that kinda life ain’t for me. Before going to Haiti, I’ve spent a good amount of time just travelling, either all alone or with friends. The west European wasteland? I’ve spent a couple of years venturing through that, looting museums and saving some important historical artefacts before scavengers could put their hands on em – She proudly said - As long as I have conditions to keep up with this lifestyle, I ain’t planning to settle down any soon. Heard there was a boat leaving for Orleans, and boy, sometimes I’m an impulsive motherfucker, so here I am! Too bad things got a little bit depressive due to my loneliness, damn, I’ve never felt homesick before.  
\- You keep in touch with your parents?  
\- I try to, but mostly me writing for em, since they know I’m always on the move. I’m always sending gifts, postcards, et cetera. What about your sister Vodka-girl?  
\- I have no idea, probably thinking I’m doing great... I mean, nah, she must know deep in her heart that I’ve fucked up. – The boy said trying his best to hold on tears - Shit, I need to throw up. Sorry, lady, ain’t feeling so well.  
\- Damn, these fuckers don’t even have indoor bathroom in here, I’ll meet you outside with clean water, okay?

\--

\- Was it the subject?  
\- Maybe  
\- My bad, so sorry.  
\- Hey, don’t worry, it’s okay, I swear!  
\- Well, if you say so...  
\- By the way, I still don’t know your name and you still don’t know mine, and since you wanna be my friend, I guess there are some things we shouldn’t hide from each other, agree?  
\- Holy fuck, my bad! Name’s Suzette, Marie Suzette Leroy Durand.  
\- Mine’s Vaslav, Molko Vaslav.  
\- But I’ll still call ya Vodka-boy, specially after you puked vodka all over my fucking shoes.  
\- That’s fair, I guess. So, you have any plans for Friday?  
\- Yup, gonna leave.  
\- For real? Where you going?  
\- Vegas then Shady Sands, boy! Got myself a job as a courier! They’ve offered me a good amount of caps to deliver some paperwork to a NCR office in there. Also, they told me that if I’m fast, Mojave Express may be interested in hiring me.  
\- Been there done that. One’s gotta do whatever it takes to escape East Coast, thought East Europe was madness till I’ve seen that shithole.  
\- You’ve been a Courier? Shit, you full of surprises, man! Ever been west?  
\- Hell yeah, that’s one of the reasons I retired, Legion bitches all over the place, almost got caught several times, dunno how I’m still alive. Haven’t been in anywhere further than Arizona though.  
\- You what? Holy shit, Legion fuckers are bizarre, how the fuck?  
\- I have no idea, can’t say I’m lucky, since if I was, I would never found myself in such situation, but can’t say otherwise either... – The boy lighted another cigarette - You really going west? Aw, I wish you could stay.  
\- Don’t make these puppy eyes! Otherwise, I’ll stay here forever just because you asked!

\--

On the Thursday night, Suzette and Vaslav met again in that same empty bar from the night before, even though they knew each other for a few more than 24 hours, cheap booze fermenting their brains and conversations made their brand new friendship flourish, as their bottles were getting empty, their laughs were getting louder, but after a while, there was this awkward silence, Suzette knew that her friend wanted to say something, so she waited until he found courage to break the ice:

\- So, hey, ain’t sure if it is the alcohol making me irrational, but I thought about a little something.  
\- If it means I’ll have to stay...  
\- Nah, was thinking about going with you.  
\- You what, boy? You serious?  
\- Yeah, 100% - He nodded – Travelling alone is hell, think of it as hiring a bodyguard.  
\- Hey! I ain’t paying you a single cap!  
\- Then don’t pay me in caps! Pay me in good company! And damn, that’s something I could use some.  
\- Are you truly sure? You’re fully aware that travelling ain’t no lemon squeeze, I hope you know what you’re doing.  
\- Heh, you bet I know, I’m goin’ with ya. Ain’t like I got a stable life or something in here, could use a few cowboy drama.  
\- So, if that’s it then, tomorrow, early in the morning, we goin’ west, boy! Pack your bags, say goodbye to whoever will miss ya and ciao-ciao.  
\- Deal!  
\- Pardners?  
\- Pardners!

\--  
Six years after  
\--

I don’t feel anything at all, just this tremendous pain inside my head.  
Shit, it burns, it fucking burns.  
Hope it ends soon. I wonder where Vodka-boy is. Last time I remember... Wait, I don’t remember anything at all! I don’t know, man. Don’t know anything but my own name. One thing I know, this metallic taste in my throat is surely blood, wonder what the fuck just happened now. I can’t see anything, just plain confusion. A confusion so thick I forgot forgetting.

“Je t’aime, maman!”  
“Je t’aime aussi, Suzette!”  
“Hey, MV, check that out!”  
“Would you like another drink, miss?”  
“You’ve made your last delivery, kid”

\- What the... What the fuck? – Suzette groaned as she painfully woke up from her coma – Shit, man.  
\- You’re awake, how about that. – The voice of an unknown old man echoed by her side  
\- They shot me, man... I saw it with my own eyes... If they shot me...  
\- They surely did, but you are safe now -  
\- Old man, tell me where the fuck is Molko? TELL ME HE’S HIDING, TELL ME THEY DIDN’T GET HIM. – She shouted, interrupting whatever the old man tried to say – I’m gonna ice the son of a bitch who did this shit to me.  
\- So that’s his name. – He calmly said - He’s alive, walking, but not doing so great, I guess it has something to do with the trauma. Poor boy won’t eat anything. I’m afraid he’ll get worse if keeping things this way. I tried speaking to him, but he only talks to himself, always in this different language, dunno if it’s Russian or German, and dunno if he understood a word I said.  
\- Yeah, he speaks English, lemme talk to him. I see what I can do.  
\- Easy there now, I’ll help you stand up. – The old man said before slowly aiding Suzette – Easy now, it ain’t a race. He’s in the other room, I’ll take you there. I’m Doc Mitchell, by the way.  
\- I’m Suzette. At least that I can remember.  
\- Heh. Your memory will come back slowly. Have patience. – The doctor said as he opened the door - Now, there he is.  
\- I can’t believe we’re alive – She hugged her friend – Hey, you won’t stop shaking, you’re cold, are you still scared? – Vaslav nodded in agreement – Hey, no need to, we’re safe and everything’s okay now, got me? – He nodded again – Why aren’t you talking, buddy? Do you remember how to talk? In English, I mean. Or at least French.  
\- Yes – The boy softly said – I don’t want to die again, Suzette.  
\- What? You ain’t dead, some son of a bitch tried to kill us, we survived because we’re two thick skulled motherfuckers. – She tried her best on making him laugh and succeed  
\- Haven’t seen you smiling or laughing before, son. – Doc Mitchell said – Think you should try eating now, will make you feel better.  
\- Why aren’t you eating? If you keep doing this, your legs gonna be weak, you’re gonna be sick then you’ll die.  
\- Ain’t hungry.  
\- Ain’t a matter of being hungry, you need this and you know that.  
\- I’ll eat something, just dunno when.  
\- Hey, can you give us some privacy, Doc?  
\- House’s all yours. – He closed the door – If y’all kids need me, I’m on the kitchen.  
\- Okay, now he’s gone, tell the truth, bitch, why ain’t you eating?  
\- He gave me grilled mantis leg! You know mantises disgust me! They freak me out! – He laughed quietly - They’re skinny and they jump!  
\- You’re skinny and you jump, still you won’t see me coming at you with all that hate in the heart, bro.  
\- Ain’t a fair comparison!  
\- Whatever you say, punk! – Suzette laughed – So, what you’ll be having for dinner?  
\- A cigarette, probably.  
\- Ain’t dinner. C’mon, man, choose another option.  
\- Two cigarettes?  
\- Asshole!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't really going to wrap up in there, but otherwise, the chapter would be too long lmao see y'all next week!!


	2. You Tried to Run But he Had a Gun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've finished writing this around four days ago, but had no energy to actually review it until yesterday night aaaaAAAAA I'm so sleepy lmao 
> 
> Anyway, have a nice reading!! Hope you enjoy my story!!

What tough times the last three months were to Suzette and Vaslav.

At first, headaches, dizziness and amnesia depredated whatever wellness they once had, but then came the uneasiness and other not so physical maladies. Doc Mitchell realized that keeping the couriers busy could help, besides allowing them to exercise their brains and bodies, some simple tasks kept the duo distracted for a long time.

For some weeks, just the thought of the sound of a shot or a loud machine was enough to trigger a paralyzing headache that could last hours. Both sound and light sensibilities kept the friends inside most of their times. Mitchell was old and could use some help on daily basis tasks, the couriers were young, full of energy and enjoyed his company, Suzette and Vaslav slowly did everything together, from cooking to cleaning and et cetera.

Two months and a few weeks of no dangers, no big commotions, full nights of sleep and well balanced diet were enough to heal most of their physical wounds, but they still needed some rest. Suzette spent most of her time tinkering a broken radio that used to belong to the nice lady from the bar, Vaslav spent most of his time dancing, demi-pliés slowly becoming pliés, then, more easily, pliés becoming grand-pliés.

Even though they still weren’t in their best shape, the month after brought some progress. As time passed, the small town became familiar to the duo, and they quickly got acquainted with every detail of Goodsprings, every inhabitant and their routines. That was also the month in which Doc Mitchell allowed them to consume alcohol, so the local saloon became their weekend place. Food was easily available, people were friendly, they shared a comfortable house, from the point of view of an outsider, things looked good to the duo.

But even the most unobservant could see how bad things actually were.

Suzette had no plans in settling down, Vaslav had no intention to retire. Times passed quickly and slowly at the same time, and while they were truly enjoying their stay, the thought of not being able to go back to their uncertain routines kept them both awake at night. The scariest things about changes are not when one chooses it, but when one have no other choices left.

\- Hey, Vodka-boy. – Suzette greeted.

\- Hey.

\- Memory game?

\- These haven’t helped in any aspect of my problems.

\- Doc said you needed em, so let’s keep doing, just till he says you don’t need it anymore. – Vaslav could feel in her expression that, just like him, she had many doubts about the effectiveness of the so-called exercise - Let’s begin: place you came from?

\- Leningrad.

\- Sometimes you say Saint Petersburg, sometimes you say Leningrad, sometimes you say Petrograd, why’s that? – The taller girl curiously asked – I know these all are different names that belong to the same city, but I can’t help but wonder, you know?

\- Oh, happens mostly thanks to babushki suffering from old world blues. After the bombs and the war, people kinda started using whatever name they liked most. Some always say Leningrad, some always say Saint Petersburg, some always say Petrograd, some just gave up and use all three names. Interesting, isn’t it?

\- Indeed, man. Love when you tell me these random stuff. – She smiled - Name of your sister and your age?

\- Vanya, 26.

\- Your name, occupation and last thing you ate today?

\- Molko Vaslav, courier, an apple. – He didn’t physically roll his eyes, but it’s the thought that counts - I don’t wanna keep doing this, can we stop? My brain’s tired, not from exercise, but overthinking. Feels like I’ve been drained.

\- What’s troubling you? You remembered something new?

\- Nah, still the same as always. Ain’t sure if it’s ever coming back.

\- Chill, pardner, baby steps, remember?

\- Yeah, baby steps. So, tomorrow we’ll go hunt geckos with Sunny? Aw, I don’t like hurting em.

\- Me neither, but they’re coming too close to the city at night, might bite the brahmin.

\- Heh. So will humans after they kill em. – The young man chuckled - Shit _,_ man! I’m tired of this life. I mean, I like the people in here, but what the fuck? I can’t do basic shit, I can’t remember shit. Will I be a brahmin night watcher forever? If that’s the destiny, then I’d hunt down the son of a bitch who tried to kill me AND CURSE HIM FOR NOT FINISHING HIS JOB. – He panicked while pressing his head against the table

\- Bitch, the fuck did you say?

\- Said I don’t like this kinda life and...

\- Nah, I meant the last part. Repeat that, please?

\- Hunting down the son of a bitch?

\- Exactly, man!

\- Oh, I see now. You got a plane?

\- Not a “plane”, Vodka-boy, a “plan”! – Suzette corrected him - And yes, I do have a plan, it’s simple. We go to Primm, get whatever information we can about the delivery, go to Vegas, make things even with the moron and ciao-ciao.

\- And you say it out loud as if it was the simplest shit ever done? C’mon, Suzy, our brain’s only been healthy for less than a month, we’re the morons now.

\- I ain’t a moron! You’re a moron!

\- So I’m a moron now? _Poshyel k chyertu!*_

\- You cuss me in Russian and I’ll cuss you in French, _fils de pute!**_ You called yourself a moron first and now you suddenly don’t want to be a moron anymore?

\- You know I do speak French, right?

\- Then pretend you don’t, so I can cuss you without you understanding a single thing I say. Makes things interesting.

\- So, serious business now, you sure you can handle the roads now? Remember we’re talking about shooting, not getting enough sleep, eating whatever radioactive trash we can find...

\- Of course I’m sure, what about you?

\- Not that confident, to be honest.

\- How’s your aim?

\- Still good, I think.

\- Then we’re good. You the best marksman I’ve ever met. – Suzette gently tapped her friend’s head - Me and ya, together we’re unstoppable.

\- That’s so sweet! – Vaslav smiled - But still, considering we’re talking about going to Vegas by foot, how’s your endurance?

\- Told you, boy, I’m fine. I could walk two hundred kilometres if I wanted to. What about you?

\- I’ve been exercising, I think that helps.

\- Jerking off doesn’t count as an exercise.

\- Ha-ha, that’s so funny – He laughed sarcastically, trying to hold his actual laughter - Why are you bullying me? Holy shit! Leave me alone, you ruffian!

\- Heh. I love you too, little brother!

After that day, Suzette became quieter, being a natural logician, her computer-like brain would never allow her to rest, and from now on, she spent days and nights thinking and figuring out a plan to catch the son of a bitch who tried to kill her and Molko, questions and thoughts flourished on her mind every single minute. She often thought about how the scar on her eyebrow was now permanent, and that annoyed her profoundly, not because of the wound itself. Besides the fact that living the life she lived made permanent wounds inevitable, she thought scars made her a “cool cat”. What truly bothered the young woman was the occasion that gave her the scar. She knew all these intrusive thoughts were nothing but her own mind’s auto sabotaging, but she still felt weak.

Her computer-like brain couldn’t spare her from the illogical feeling of regretting something she had no control over.

The complexities of her thoughts were often a distraction from her “down-to-earth” questions, but her suspicions never ceased.

What is that chip? Why is it made of platinum?

Why a chip? What does it do?

Why her and Vaslav?

What was the man in chequered suit looking for?

\- Boy, I think we’ve been thrown in the middle of a football match in which we’re playing in neither teams. – The girl thought out loud.

\- I often think about that too. Those guys, they knew what they wanted, they knew our routines and they knew exactly what to do. Not looking much like a coincidence, if you ask me.

\- I'm done being nice. If you don't hand Ringo over soon, I'm going to get my friends and we're burning this town to the ground, got it?

\- Hey, Suzy, you seeing that guy? The fuck’s happening over there?

\- Let’s check, looks like trouble. He’s messing with Trudy.

\- We'll keep that in mind. – The barkeeper answered the rude man in a voice tone that expressed more boredom than concern - Now, if you're not going to buy something, get out.

The man was quickly heading outside when he ran into the couriers:

\- The fuck you’re looking at?

\- This pretty face of yours. – Vaslav answered cynically

\- You wanna a hole in your head, little bitch?

\- Another one? You’re not too much avant-garde, sugar. – He yelled as the man ran through the door

\- Man, this guy ain’t up for a good laugh. Heh. What a loser. – Suzette mocked - Hey, Trudy, who’s that fool and what’s his business?

\- It looks like our little town got itself dragged into the middle of something we don’t want anything to do with. He’s a convict. Just without the chains. Said his name was Joe Cobb. “Powder Gangers” is what they call themselves. Plenty more like him out there.

\- What does he want with that Ringo guy hiding in the gas station?

\- He’s after him, actually. Won’t make any serious moves, though. Probably scared Ringo will shoot him in sight.

\- You know what, MV? I had an idea. Follow me, homeboy!

\--

\- Knocking won’t do, we’ll have to go inside. – Suzette said impatiently. After more than fifteen minutes knocking, they had no answer - Howdy!!

\- That’s close enough. Who are you and what do you want with me? – The man said pointing his gun to the duo.

\- Hey, buddy, chill! Chill! Don’t point this shit at us, we ain’t enemy.

\- Oh, I’m sorry about that, you caught me off guard, you know? Ain’t like I’m expecting visitors or something.

\- Nah, don’t worry, if two strangers just showed up on front of my door I’d have the same reaction. – The shorter man chuckled nervously - You know there’s a guy named Joe Cobb searching for you, right?

\- Yeah, I know Cobb. A moron, if you ask me, people say he’s afraid I’ll shoot him in sight, and he’s right. – Ringo nodded - We could take him out with both eyes closed if we wanted to, but the problem is he’s not alone, once his friends come here, whole town’s gonna be in trouble.

\- True danger will be when Cobb and his “cobbers”*** come after you.

\- Cheers to that one, pal! – Suzette laughed - So, may I ask what does this fucker in particular wants with you?

\- My caravan was returning from California, we were headed back to Vegas when they ambushed us. We put up a good fight, but there was just too many of them. I took some down, so I’m sure this is all about revenging their fallen friends.

\- What a pain in the ass!

\- You tell me – Ringo sighed tiredly – So, we all had a bad start, me pointing a gun at you fellas, what do you say about playing a small game of Caravan to put us all in good terms? You know how to play?

\- We just told ya a man’s coming to kill you and your reaction is asking if we wanna play Caravan?

\- Let him be, Vodka-boy, a man’s gotta have his own coping mechanisms.

\- She’s right! The wasteland’s already cruel enough to it’s inhabitants, let’s try to enjoy the small things on life while we can. So, what do y’all say?

\- Count us in! Nothing like a good game to put me in a joyful mood.

Suzette was equally lucky and tactical when it came to card games, Vaslav never really knew what he was supposed to do. Ringo and the trouble with the Gangers would not distract both couriers from their main goal, their unexpected gambling night wouldn't either, but it was nice to have a good and worriless time. Later that dawn, the game was over and they went home. The desert night brought low temperatures, and all the sudden climate changes made it easy to catch a cold.

Both friends were sitting on the porch. Since their arrival in Goodsprings, Doc's front porch became their favourite hangout place in town after the saloon. All the late nights they have passed chilling, smoking and talking about whatever came to mind were quickly becoming cherished memories.

\- So, hey, Vodka-boy, I just had a plan, but ain’t sure if you’d be up to.

\- About the Powder Gangers? I was also thinking about a plan.

\- Really? That’s neat, let’s debate then – The woman said gently tapping her friend’s back - So, you know we can’t just go siding with Cobb and stab everybody in the back...

\- But at the same time, we can’t go out there making powerful enemies – The young man completed - So we need a way to ice Cobb without the Gangers knowing.

\- Shit, man, sometimes our brains share the same mind. Wasn’t thinking about icing Cobb, though, but now that you mentioned, I’m afraid we have no choice left.

\- I know his type; no amount of chit chat in the world will convince this guy to leave folks alone.

\- You right, you right. I thought about something, but as I said before, ain’t sure if you’re gonna like this plan. – She alerted - Please, tell me if there’s anything you don’t agree with, okay?

\- Sure, lemme hear.

\- Alright, so, it’s actually a two parts plan: we’d work separately at first; I’ll keep the townsfolk informed, plan things with Ringo and keep Cobb distracted, making sure he doesn’t leave town. You go to the facility and put us in good terms with the Gangers.

\- You know what? May sound madness, but I’m liking this scheme of yours. Please, continue.

\- You don’t talk to Cobb, just go straight to the facility and talk to their boss, gain their trust. – Suzette was someone who talked with both her words and her hands, and at this conversation, her gesturing was more vivacious - I’ll stay here, reunite everybody and keep an eye on the fool.

\- And may I ask what am I supposed to do once I get there? Just get inside, say “Howdy-do! I’m friend!” and expect warm hugs?

\- Of course not, man! You’ll figure something out, besides the fact that you’ve been on similar situations before, you’re creative! You’re the artist here!

\- So, lemme get this straight, you want them to believe a random Russian's coming to their place just out of nothing but curiosity? If you wanna kill me then do it yourself, you coward!

\- Wait, I thought about something! – She raised her voice - You know, everybody in town knows we have a... Low-key turbulent past when it comes to oppressive forces like the NCR and the legion, law enforcement haven’t exactly been on our side. You could use that in our favour. 

\- Damn, Suzy, you just gave me an idea! – Vaslav exclaimed - Have you thrown away all my chems?

\- Nah, didn’t even know you still haven’t done all of them in a single row.

\- C’mon, I ain't that much of a junkie! – He said in his own defence - You know where can I find em?

\- Doc hid most of em, said you needed to be clean.

\- I need to find where they are. Not for me, by the way. I’m figuring the Gangers would appreciate a small gift.

\- Shit, you’re a fucking genius!

\- And what are your plans about Cobb? We need to work in perfect timing, cause if they find out he’s dead while I’m there, oh boy, I’ll be next.

\- Second part of the plan, Vodka-boy! – She winked - Besides the fact that dead men don’t report back to their bosses nor call their friends, let’s just say he might walk into a Cazadores’ nest or something and _ces't fini_ *¹. We wouldn’t have anything to do with that, Goodsprings wouldn’t have anything to do with that, just another casualty on the Mojave Wasteland. We still have to figure a way to let Ringo off the hook though. Also, we need to be ready for everything, see what parts may or may not work out. It’s easy to plan things, but it’s hard for things to happen the way we plan, you know?

\- Surely. But hey, in my opinion, we shouldn’t put Ringo as our first priority, I think the townsfolk need to come first, agree?

\- Absolutely, man.

\- So, tomorrow night I’ll be going to the facility. I won’t waste any time.

\- Straight back into the game, right, _mon ami_?*²

\- Hell yeah, _moy drug_!*²

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you all had a nice time!! Comments are always welcome!! 
> 
> Translations :  
> * : Go to hell  
> ** : Son of a bitch  
> *** : Friends (I know it's english, but ain't sure if this word is that much famous)  
> *¹ : That's the end  
> *² : My friend

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Please, feel free to comment. Constructive criticism, compliments, observations, or just an "aaa" are all welcome!


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